Straying from the Path
by DarkestWolfx
Summary: Halloween had a pattern for them, a 'usual' routine which they followed. What was it they always say about something straying from the marked path? He couldn't remember a Halloween which had ever gone so wrong.


Just a little Halloween treat for you all. I was particularly inspired this year, despite the fact that the best and really only thing I like about Halloween is the pumpkin picking part - pumpkin muffins are delicious: I recommend. But, as you've all been so good to me since my return (once again, apologies for the long absence), I felt this was deserved. I hope you all enjoyed your day, whether you celebrate it or not, and like this little piece.

For their continued support, this piece is dedicate to these special people: Teobi, Zarius, Bow Echo and Madilayn.

I'm taking their TOS ages mainly, but I've moved a few small details just to make the story work better, mainly all I've done is added an extra two years in Virgil and Gordon's age gap. That, and I'm making my first foray into writing something set very pre-IR.

So, ages; Scott: 15, John: 14, Virgil: 12, Gordon: 9, Alan: 8.

Final note: I apologise. I've no clue how this ended up so long. If you manage to get to the end, I will appreciate it.

* * *

He was working. One of the busiest nights of the American seasonal calender and he was working. That was going to cause a fair few issues.

Scott had outgrown the traditional 'child's' image of Halloween, going in now for the scare factor. Or rather, the hang out with your friend's element.

John had never really been that interested to start with. He didn't like sweets much and preferred to look at the stars.

Virgil would never admit to it. He still went apparently for Gordon and Alan's sake, but it was something he'd always loved. Jeff thought that sticked from Lucy.

Gordon was up for anything with Trick in the titles and the treat were just a bonus. Honestly, he dreaded knocking on anyone's door with the red-head in tow.

Alan was more for the sweets, but he'd realised recently that the highlight for Alan had always been the group involvement factor, that it was something they did together.

Scott wasn't an academic, but was popular at school; John was an academic, but didn't particularly like big events; Virgil loved them, but just didn't like to impose; Gordon would impose all he wished and make it a competition; Alan didn't mind the competitive 'who can get more sweets', but he'd rather just have his brothers in tow.

It was hard news to break too.

He didn't know whether Scott had anything planned for this year, because he insisted adamantly that the was staying in. John on the other hand, he believed when the blonde said he wasn't moving. Virgil had shrugged when last asked, said he'd go if they were doing it this year. Gordon and Alan had instantly answered the affirmative to that and set about arranging costumes for all of them.

Even him.

And that made it one step harder to let them down.

It was a very important meeting though. The boys wouldn't understand if he tried to explain. It was true that Tracy Industries didn't really need the funding this meeting might generate, but the project he really wanted to make happen did. It would be long in the running, but everything needed a starting kick. If he didn't begin to get the funding settled now, he feared he might never achieve it.

"Boys, I need to work tonight."

"What?" Gordon. He would have the first word to say about it. Virgil and Alan just looked a little perplexed. John hadn't looked up from his book and Scott was still calmly drinking his coffee.

Coffee which Jeff could predict he was about to spit back into the cup.

"Scott, could I ask a favour of you to take your brothers?"

Yes. That was exactly what happened.

"Me?"

"If you don't have anything else to do?" And that had caught him, because the eldest had been insistent. If there was something, he couldn't exactly throw it out now. He supposed it was a mean trick of his really, for now the youngest three were looking at their role model expectantly.

"No. I suppose I can take them."

Gordon and Alan cheered in victory and ran off to get change. Virgil followed, but at a perfectly nonchalant pace. The kid really did like to play things cool.

"John, you could go with them. Save you being in the house all night on your own." Don't get him wrong. John was fourteen – old enough to stay in alone for a few hours and definitely _sensible_ enough without doubt, but it would be nice for him to have some company. He also knew that John would have accompanied them if he'd been able to go.

The blonde lowered his book, looking to be in thought before shrugging

He caught Scott's almost desperate look from the corner of his eye, but really, he had no clue what it meant, though he supposed John did.

"I suppose I could. Help Scott keep the two trickers out of too much trouble."

Well, that was that.

"Thank you, boys. I'll be in late so don't wait up, but please aim to be home before ten."

"We will, Dad." Scott promised.

"Don't worry." John assured.

And believed them both. The pair of them had always been trustworthy and when they worked together, they were often the strongest team. John was incredibly smart and more of an adult than he should be for his age and he supposed the blonde didn't have too much effect on the brunette's popular image. He wondered if Scott even cared for his image or whether he simply held that up as a front for the world. If that was the case, then it was probably a learnt behaviour. Out of all his children, the eldest had definitely been the one to see him put up the most front for clients and the like.

But he could trust them, so he didn't dare worry. What could go wrong with two sensible boys like that watching over three (one sensible too, and two not so) younger boys?

* * *

"How long do you think before they'll be ready?" Scott asked, gesturing to the stairs.

John returned his gaze to his book upon hearing the car pull away. "Dad was going to take them at seven."

Scott nodded. "Ok."

And then moved it back up again. "You don't have to go, Scott."

"No, it's fine. Dad asked me."

The blonde shut his book, mentally clocking the page for when he returned. They had ten minutes; their younger brothers would no doubt be ready in five. "You don't want to take them though."

"No, it's not that-" But he didn't say what. He wasn't really sure what to say. And that was telling enough for John. With them being so close in age and usually in words too, the blonde was certain that Scott had other plans. He could guess as to what they were too. Still, if it was going to be an inconvenience to the brunette,

"I can take them."

"No." Just like how he could also guess from that insistent answer - which told him that actually Scott did want to take his brother's out and spend the evening with them - that they weren't really Scott's. So why was he going?

"Scott."

"John."

"Were you thinking of doing anything else tonight?" He knew if he phrased it like that, there was no way Scott couldn't answer it truthfully and after a sigh, that was what he finally received.

"Just of heading somewhere else, that's all." He divulged. There was no way he couldn't eventually not give his direct younger brother the truth. The blonde had always been too good at seeing right through him, even with a book obscuring his view.

"Where?"

"The fair at the top of town." John sent him a perfect frown. Yes, he knew _fairs_ werent' meant to be his thing and John clearly remembered that too; now he was waiting for a valid reason to explain the anomaly. "Everyone in my year's going."

"I thought that wasn't _your_ thing."

"I think Dad thinks it is." Their father seemed to approve of him finally making a circle of friends which didn't constitute his brothers and only his brothers. "They certainly all do."

"That's because _you_ like to try and ' _show off_ ' at school."

" _I_ do _not_." He thoroughly debated that statement, especially when it was accompanied by _that_ smile on the blonde's pale face. _What does he know?_ He'd just love to know why it was rapidly turning into a smirk as well.

As the blonde made his way into the hall, he shrugged, nimble fingers grabbing his coat from beneath the pile on the banister.

"Really you owe all your success to me, _and_ the fact that I haven't yet mentioned _I_ help you with your science homework."

"You could tell them, _I_ wouldn't care less."

He shook his head though, chucking Scott his trainers from the cupboard. "I wouldn't. I couldn't be the one to destroy their image of the rich, cool, popular and smart 'Scott Tracy', who hangs out with his 'friends' instead of his brothers. The one who's going to be a business man, when really he wants to be a pilot. I bet they think you don't bother that much about us either. They've got you pegged all wrong."

And for a fourteen-year-old – yes, you could argue he was only fifteen, but still – John saw things with great accuracy. There was nothing incorrect in what he'd just said. Obviously, his life wasn't like that, because he did stil prioritise his brothers and he did want to be a pilot, but no one else saw that. Just the closed net he loved more than anything and would never call anything but _family_.

"Let's just get out there." He insisted, holding a hand out, to which John instantly threw him his coat. He caught it without a snag. They were incredibly in synch of course, because the blonde could barely have glanced up from where he was finished tying his laces.

"So," And here begins a fishing trip, " _You're_ not fussed for going?"

"No."

"Not even when they enquire on Monday as to where _you_ were?"

"No."

"Not even when they tell you on Monday they _all_ had to go home?"

"N-" Wait… That one baffled him, actually, and he turned fully to John. "Why would you say that?"

"Because, I guarantee _you're_ going to be paying for all of it, aren't you? I mean, it's not exactly a well-kept secret how much Dad gives us for an allowance, nor it is secret that you've been saving yours."

Strange, he thought it was. They were very private when it came to their home life. Or at least, so he'd thought. He didn't get time to answer John though, as Alan, dressed as a Wizard of some barrelled down the stairs, jumping straight into him. He sounded slightly breathless, but then he'd probably been jumping around in excitement whilst waiting for Gordon and Virgil – or the slow pokes, as he often named them – to finish getting ready.

"Scotty, are you and Johnny not changing into costume." John's sniggers were not helping as he literally held an armful of their youngest brother, who yes, was definitely beginning to get heavier. _At long last._ Swinging Alan around to set him on the level floor of the hall, he lowered himself onto his knees, so his face was more level with the blonde's eyeline. He tried to ignore John's new sniggers at how 'parental' he was learning to be.

"Not tonight, kid. We're going to be the adults."

"You could still dress up."

"But then people will give us sweets too. We can't have that." Alan seemed thoughtful for a moment before clearly deciding there was somehow logic to that – for which he was glad, as he didn't want to have to keep scratching around for bad explanations. Nor did he want to have to end up dressing as Batman – Gordon's choice, clearly. At least they only wanted John to dress up as a white cat, and though his direct younger had been unsure about that, he was certain it was a far reach better than blinking Batman.

"Ok. Can you get them to hurry up?" He chuckled, noticing as he stood back up to his full height, just how much taller he'd become. He nearly towered over Alan. Grabbing Alan's coat from the stairs, he called.

"Hurry up, you two!" He grabbed Virgil and Gordon's coats too throwing the youngers to John, who caught it skilfully once again. They done this far too often when their father was working. He smiled as almost instantaneously footsteps echoed down the stairs at breakneck pace. Virgil was trying to make it look like he wasn't too fussed though, but he could see straight through the act.

"Are we finally going?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean finally?" John asked their resident spider as he stopped at the foot of the stairs, Alan taking his fellow blonde brother's hand as he passed. "You're the one holding us up."

"I am not!" Gordon pouted, still waiting on the stairs as Virgil – now a strange human skeleton – stepped down around him.

"Just hurry up Gordon."

"Oi, Virgil, you can't tell me to hurry up!" Scott chuckled as John was already leading Alan out the open front door, the middle child following merrily.

"Oh, I don't know, Gords. I think he can." He added, grabbing his keys from the stand by the door - after all, it was unlikely their father would be home before them and it never hurt to carry a set - before turning to the younger as he stepped out the door. "Coming?"

"Wait for me!" The red-head insisted, darting past him before he'd even made it down the step. He shook his head at the younger before firmly pulling the door shut and double checking it. They started down the road in a merry band, John and Alan far ahead, Virgil happily plodding along between them all, as he and Gordon brought up the rear.

"Do you want a hand to hold?" He asked Gordon as they made their way. His hands were currently residing in his pockets, but he could open them to the cold.

"No." The red head insisted, pout returning.

"Whatever you say." Gordon was trying to act older lately, since he'd found friends of his own at school. It seemed that was a common thing that the Tracy boys found difficult; making friends outside their close circle of brother's. Scott supposed that was because they _always_ had been _so close._

"I'm going to get the most sweets this year!" Alan called back to which Virgil promptly shook his head.

"Best costume always gets it and that will be me."

Gordon spluttered his way through a long laugh before replying, "No way, big brother, _I_ win in that category. And _I'll_ get the most sweets anyway."

"Why will you?" Alan fired back, turning sharply and halting abruptly, pulling John back the step the blonde had been ready to take.

"Because I will." Gordon asked as he ploughed ahead, sticking his tongue out at his direct younger. Virgil had continued walking too, but remained indifferent to the argument, as was his prerogative.

"Gords, that's not fair!" He pouted and looked about ready to fall into a tantrum – yes, he was eight now, but losing their mother had done a lot of stunting to all of them; maybe apart from John, whose intellect was already high enough to afford him the grieving time. It was harder tonight as well, he supposed, for this was the first night Dad hadn't joined them. He wanted to keep up with the other younger pair, the dark already drawing in close, but he was the eldest after all. As long as one of them had their eyes on the others, it was fine. So he sent John a quick look one that enquired as to whether the blonde needed help or not. Yet kneeling at Alan's side on the pavement, his direct younger shook his head.

So with that, he left the blonde pair to it. After all, John could always be trusted to keep an eye on Alan, their connection being strengthened through their collective love of space.

He hovered behind Virgil and Gordon; close enough that they were aware of his presence, but not so as to intrude, of which the middle child definitely seemed pleased.

"Scott, why aren't we knocking on any doors?"

Their part of the neighbourhood had few houses close together, but everyone who lived there tended to know each other quite well and definitely wasn't opposed to the tradition. Still, every year they marched a little further towards the town for the chance to knock on more doors. This year… well, John was right. If he didn't turn up, no one else would stay and those questions would be hard to face on Monday. That's if he even wanted to keep playing to that image. He didn't know that answer for himself and so he could hardly expect anyone else to.

"Because we're going to knock on these on the way back home."

"Oh?" Virgil's curiosity knew no bounds sometimes, and usually on the occasions when he didn't want to, couldn't really (for age reasons usually) or didn't have an answer. This was one of those such times. "So how far are we going?"

He imaged their middle child had caught on, figured out they were going to head around the town first. It was the scenario which fitted with doing the houses they knew on the way back. It matched his avoidance of declaring it too, because that was going to be very awkward.

"Just to town, Virge."

"Town!" _Oh please no._ Gordon bouncing around most of the evening was guaranteed from the sweets and costume and chance to stay up late (especially since Halloween had finally fallen on a Friday), but now it seemed that all evening was certain too. Just what was he getting himself in to? Maybe… He considered it briefly, backing away now and leaving the task to John… but that wasn't fair. And was that what he wanted?

He paused for a moment, Virgil stopping with him, but Gordon continued on oblivious until he gave a brief, but strong yank on one of the fourth child's eight legs.

"What?" He whined. "You said we were going to town."

"We are. But we're going to wait for Alan."

"Oohhhh." _Grief,_ and he'd always assumed the youngest of the bunch would take the prize for whining. Wrong: the red-head stole it from all of them by a far country mile. He decided he wouldn't let the younger forget exactly _why_ they'd had to stop and wait.

"You upset him Gordon."

"And you held us up from leaving. Ow!"

 _Hurry up John,_ he begged the stars as Gordon hit Virgil again with another of his foam legs. He could only shake his head woefully brunette curls flipping slightly in the breeze before reaching out to grab said legs before Virgil actually did make Gordon into a skeleton.

* * *

It was still early by the time they finished the short walk to town, all quibbles resolved merrily. Alan was beaming like a madder version of the Cheshire Cat and though John would not disclose what had made the youngest willing to forgive Gordon – which included a large hug in the street the spider didn't approve of – he was certain it must be good.

He'd walked them round the long way towards the field the fair had set up pitch at, still in two minds about what he should do, but that decision was made before they even quite got there.

"Hey Scott!"

"Who's that?" Alan asked instantly, his curiosity permanently piqued, especially on a night supposedly full of ghouls and ghosties.

"No one." He shrugged, happy to ignore the call, but John's frown was disapproving and hard to ignore.

"But they called for _you_." Gordon further insisted, his keen shouts completely juxtaposed by Virgil's perfect silence – appreciated silence.

"Scott Tracy!" He sighed, this was the last thing he needed now.

John wasn't certain of their names, but he recognised the faces as those from Scott's year. Honestly, that task wasn't hard, made even easier by the merry and mixed band shouting his brother's name as though he was the ultimate Wizard reborn from the dead for one night and one night only. You wouldn't think he lived here every day of his life. You could certainly be fooled from the 'friends' reaction to spotting him and Scott's towering height, that he'd returned from a term off at a distant university.

And there was no way the brunette could ignore them now. So they stopped as one large group and turned to the larger group of teenagers, who greeted Scott like a God and promptly ignored the rest of them. Virgil's expression was hard to miss, the way he frowned, raised a brow, nodded, frowned again… seemingly responding to everything as it occurred. It reminded him a lot of the younger version of himself. Gordon had squared his shoulders, but Alan had simply tightened his grip on his hand.

He squeezed back his fellow blonde brother's hand, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his eldest brother's conversation.

"We were beginning to get worried."

"We didn't think you were going to make it."

"Well I said I'd be here." And there it was: to any of them that sounded exactly as it was meant to, but to him it was an entirely different sentence, with none of the meaning the everyday attuned ears picked up on. He'd knew he'd been right in saying what his only eldest brother would prefer to spend the night doing.

"Are we going to the Halloween fair, Scott?" Virgil asked after a moment, clearly reading the signs and listening to the conversation. There was a slight slip in the brunette's composure, but he was certain everyone else missed it, without a doubt that applied to the fish-spider.

"Are we really? Are we?"

And really, what was there the eldest could say to that? No. _That wasn't going to go down well at all._ Really, the eldest's hands were tied.

The group took a second look at the group, and he was surprised when there was a clear recognition as to who he was. _How surprising._ But that was pretty much it with the assumptions and the last line was,

"See you in there, Tracy."

Hmm. They were waiting to see what Scott chose. A mean decision.

John supposed they'd figured one of two things. Either Scott would choose to take his brothers trick or treating, or that that responsibility lay with him and Scott had simply walked with them out of duress. Because no one aged fifteen with four younger brothers was actually going to _care_ about _them._ Dad often told them they weren't like most teenagers, but he knew Scott definitely wasn't a normal teenager.

"Is this a surprise?" Alan questioned, confusion clear all over his young face. Virgil still looked slightly confused, his eyes having followed the group to where they'd met up with a larger group of girls. He watched too briefly to see what had caught Virgil's gaze for so long, when he noticed the girls giggle and squeal as one of the guys pointed towards the gate. Clearly Scott wasn't just God, he was royalty. They all couldn't seem happier at his arrival, to say the least.

Gordon was the only one of three youngest who didn't seem at all confused.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

And that was what told him there was nothing else for it, and as Scott caught his eye, the words didn't need voicing.

 _Tell them._

 _I can't._

 _Tell them, Scott._

 _They'll be upset._

 _Better that than they find out later you lied._

 _I know._

Gordon was marching himself on the spot with motivation, and so he reached out a hand for the red-head's shoulder.

"We're not going to the fair."

"What do you mean?" Alan blinked, though it was clear Gordon knew the answer obvious.

"Do you mean we're not going?"

 _I'm sure that's what I said,_ he thought to himself briefly, glad John had yet to chip in anything. On the other hand, he supposed he'd underestimated Virgil's intellect recently.

"He means we aren't going, but he is."

"What?" Gordon seemed flabbergasted. Alan was looking between them all, but his face was giving nothing away. Virgil was clearly disappointed. John didn't need to wear his expression on his face: the blonde's heart was on his sleeve.

"You knew we were going trick or treating like usual." John threw out suddenly and he felt his chest expand with previously held breath, a deep relief sinking over him. It would have been so easy for the younger to turn his back on him, especially as that sentence was partially a lie. John had known there was every chance of this happening for he'd worked it all out before they walked out the door. Clearly that conversation was forgotten.

"Yeah, but Dad couldn't take us, which isn't like usual. He asked Scott to take us and he's going to the fair." Virgil reasoned, and Gordon seemed to continue piggybacking off his direct elder's every word.

"Meaning it's not a usual Halloween so we should go to the fair instead!"

"I don't think it does."

 _Yes, thank you so much, John._ Even so, his direct younger brother's comments were doing little in altering the sway of the argument, what with how neutral they were. Still, with the rapid increase in upset in their younger brothers, he wasn't sure how plain the blonde's arguments would remain. With his decision still not set, yet likely leaning towards going to the fair, purely to avoid a disaster when returning to school on Monday, he could only really see two ways of this ending. He was sure this was rapidly going to become a debate between the two of them, or an argument hosted by the youngest. On that one, he wasn't certain even John would be able to save him. It was a split-second thing, one of those moments where you open your mouth and see what falls out, fully intent to let that be.

"You're going trick or treating with John."

Only usually, you ended up liking whatever you spoke.

He knew the blonde had made that offer willingly, and even now (since he was openly choosing to accept it) didn't appear to wish to retract it. He didn't want to throw the responsibility on the younger, however he was torn right now as to what he was best to do. He wanted to listen to his heart, but then their father had always told him that sometimes you have to lead with your head.

"I don't want to go trick or treating." Gordon pouted, folding his arms, and instantly he could see a tantrum forming if they didn't find a solution, a display he didn't particularly want on the streets for all to see and hear. And there were a fair few people out tonight. "I want to go to the fair!"

" _I_ should be able to go to the fair. _I'm_ older."

Gordon instantly turned in towards the family skeleton with that comment, effectively solving one problem, but at the same time creating another. _Please don't make me tempted to cut those spider legs off Gordon._ Not that he had anything to cut them with, but it would work as a threat should he need it. Unless of course, the red-head was in a smart-alec mood, which right now was quite likely.

" _I_ can go. Scott will be with us."

"I'd like sweets…" Alan added quietly and that was definitely his favourite comment of the bunch. The youngest didn't seem that interest in straying from normal routine and was staying firmly fixed by the elder blonde's side. Gordon didn't seem particularly fond of the week comment though and shifted his gaze until his brown eyes were staring straight past Virgil and towards the younger.

"You can get sweets at the fair." Gordon was clearly thinking that if they all stood together on the view, he might waver and let them come.

Nevertheless, he was going to stand resolute and firm on that. It was not happening. Dad would have a fit if he let the boys go unaccompanied to a Halloween Horror Fair that technically they weren't old enough for. And they would be unaccompanied essentially, because it would be hard for him to keep an eye on them all on his own.

There was no way John would walk around with the people from his year either, the mutual dislike was clear between them; the smart blonde being far too smart for his own good when it came to their brief interactions at the edge of the school grounds whilst waiting for their brothers to arrive. The blonde had never particularly taken to them anyhow, and he was right in quietly calling them a bunch of _'_ _selfish loudmouths',_ but then everyone in his year seemed to be that way inclined. Whether it was a case of age, family upbringing or learned behaviour he didn't know, but that seemed to be the hand he was dealt. Of course, none of them had as much money as he did either – which obviously _they_ now knew _somehow_. John had never disclosed _that_ piece of knowledge and he was still _stumped_ as to how.

"It's not the same though, is it?" The blonde asked his direct elder, who merely shrugged.

"Of course it is. Sweets are _sweets_."

Oh grief, did Gordon just permanently live with an argument set up for any occasion? Even John seemed to be tiring of the whole situation as he shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. Gordon always could give any of them a headache in mere minutes. He was nowhere near as smart as John, but he was a trickster and could do a lot of things he put his mind too. It was just a pity he never put it towards his education.

"You won't get any sweets at the fair, Gordon."

"Yes we will. Scott will buy them."

Alan pouted now, yet since he still held John's hand there seemed little to worry about, for no visual signs warned that the youngest might change his mind, "But that's not trick or treating."

"So? We'd be at a _fair_."

"A fair is much more suitable for someone my age than yours, Gordon."

"I'm _only_ two years younger than _you_." Well, that could be a very big age difference for some siblings, they were just a particularly lucky (or unlucky, depending on your view) family where in age difference rarely mattered. Unless like now, when a specific age was brought up ultimately leading to _this_ debate. And why did it always, without fail, have to be Virgil and Gordon who dived into the pit?

" _Three_."

"No way. It's two years and sixth months!"

"Technically, two years, five months and thirty days."

" _'_ _Technically…'_ " Really, why did he bother with coming here to all this hassle? He really should have just gone with the traditional trick or treating, which Alan (who had butted out of Virgil and Gordon's escalating 'discussion') still seemed perfectly happy with.

 _Scott, you're an idiot._ Because all this fuss should have been predictable. Alan was watching his elder brothers with a changing scale of emotion, going one minute from laughing to perfect silence. John had taken to staring up at the sky, presumably worn down listening to all the fuss.

"Gordon, stop that!"

"No, _I'll_ do what _I_ like, thank you!"

"No you can't!"

"You're not my boss."

" _I'm_ older."

"And _I'm_ sooo scared." Gordon may have speaking sarcastically, but Alan certainly looked scared and in those fleeting moments, Virgil definitely looked scary beneath the moonlight which was catching at the perfect angle to illuminate a skeleton.

It was rare, but maybe John really had just _had it,_ for his response to the changing situation now was highly unexpected and of all the people for it to come from, he'd ever have put his bets on the elder blonde, "Just take them with you."

"I _can't_." He bit back, because it just wasn't possible on any account.

"I'm sure they won't embarrass you."

"Under ten." He tilted his head towards the sign on the gate to which John simply shrugged.

"Well, I'll take Gordon then."

Virgil smiled brightly now at the idea of having an evening with simply his bigger brother and definitely one minus the trickster who always came into prime on nights like Halloween. On the other hand, Gordon resumed – if he'd ever really stopped – pouting and stamped his feet as though he was half his age. Even Alan didn't throw tantrums as effective as Gordon's when he was that age, let alone now. It seemed the red-head had simply never grown out of the practised or instinctual art.

"No! I _want_ to go to the fair with Scott too!"

"Gordon-"

"I'm ten next year." It was a very desperate attempt to convince him, although still a futile one.

"So am I!" Alan may be eight, but he was definitely a young eight. Not filled out at all, yet growing quite tall, fast, he appeared rather lanky. People often assumed he was so much younger than Gordon that he'd tried recently to say they were the same age.

"You'll be nine, silly." He actually had to drop his head into his hands now. This was all getting completely out of hand and really he should probably have kept them to the local area. The fair came every year, but never had the family gone, preferring the traditional approach which suited all their ages. Dad had offered he and John to go last year, but neither of them had wished to. He still didn't think he _wished_ to now, yet it felt like he was under a lot of duress to do so.

He was sure now that John had just given up on waiting, seeking only to find a peaceful and quick resolution to the situation as he shrugged, "Well, Gordon can pass for a ten-year-old."

"What?" Now he was absolutely certain his ears were full of wax, or that John had lost his marbles to be suggesting very Gordon and Alan styled tricks. Still, it had the fourth child beaming with glee and though Virgil's happiness had fallen a little, he still seemed quire delighted at the idea of getting to go to the fair at all.

"Well, he's not a young nine, nor is he _that_ short of the age." He'd call four months short, whether it was closer to ten rather than nine or not, in his book four months was four months. Or at least, that's what he'd always taken from their father and his military ways at times. They were habits you kept for life once you knew them, he supposed. "Besides he _always_ acts older when he's around you, so just take him."

He was sure his jaw had dropped because Gordon was laughing. Either that or he was laughing in victory or some other likely amusing thing he'd done naturally to give away just how shocked he was at the words of his direct younger. Or maybe that's what the red-head was laughing at, the elder blonde giving in.

"Really John? I'm hearing this from you? 'Mr Right'."

It was the Terrible Two's name for him, but it had stuck between them all, because yes, John was usually right, even over their father sometimes on the quiz show they used to watch together on Tuesday nights

"I know, but I just want this to be an easy night and it's not going to go like that unless we split up. I'm only a year younger than you-"

"Don't forget the six months!" If they were going to be pedantic on age tonight, he might as well join in. Besides, that made John clearly and year a half younger than him, and that _half_ had to count for something.

"-and I know the neighbourhood just as well. I'm perfectly able to watch Alan too." Of that he had no doubt, considering the miracle the blonde must have performed to advert and crisis earlier, and even if he did have doubts, the way Alan had gripped John's hand all evening was testimony to the fact the pair would survive alone. "Virgil and Gordon are old enough to go with you and want to, so they can just tag along, be absolutely no trouble and we can meet back up before we go home. As long as we come in together with the same story, Dad will be none the wiser. I just don't want this to end in anymore _arguments_."

In fairness, they'd likely be in and in bed before their father came in, so that shouldn't be a worry, but still, it was the principle of it. Yet he was slightly annoyed that John chose to imply they too were arguing. He wasn't aware he'd done anything of the sort. Virgil and Gordon seemed mightily offended two, speaking in perfect synch suddenly.

"We're not-" Arguing, yes, he'd heard it all before.

"Look Scott, _I'll_ take Alan. _You_ can take Virgil and Gordon. That way everyone gets what they want and no one will say a word to Dad, because they'll have got what they wanted." There was silence to that, John moving into a rare mode where he actually put his foot down and took over. The only other times you found the blonde this insistent was when he was watching a major astrological event of the TV. No one dared even attempt to change the channel anymore, because it was dangerously like having a cat-turned-lion in the room. "Everyone agreed?"

The three youngest nodded in clear mutiny and that struck a chord with him. Decisions were his responsibility when their father wasn't around, and this certainly felt like being overruled.

"Hey, you can't rally them against me. I get the final say."

His direct younger simply gazed back at him, their eye contact always firmly established, especially at times like these, with issues like this under discussion.

"Then call it, Scott. I'll just give you fair warning that Gordon may _'_ _tell on you'_ if you _don't_ take him." He did have to chuckle at that, simply out of principle. Their fourth brother had always been somewhat good at picking up and holding onto certain pieces of information and then at keeping them lodged securely in his back pocket until he had need of them. But he was sure the second youngest had grown out of things like that by now.

"He's not _that_ childish, John." The second child's eyes didn't move, but his eyebrows raised. It was that action which prompted him to look down towards Gordon who was smiling, _madly_. It was completely and utterly _unnerving_ and just screamed, _'_ _you're so wrong'_ at him. He knew from that alone that he should reconsider, and quick. "Ok, on second thoughts."

John smiled at this news and squeezed the youngest's hand, "Come on, Alan."

The youngest beamed as John began to lead him away from the gates to the field and down towards the houses of the town. It occurred to him as they walked though, that maybe John was only coming on this particular excursion for his sake, seeing as he'd make it clear he didn't really want to go to the fair, even if the age limit had allowed it.

"You don't want to go?"

He had to chuckle. It was kind of Alan to consider what he might want, but had no inclination to be anywhere else right now, definitely not at some big and well-attended fair for the celebrations of a 'creepy' evening. So as the younger blonde looked up at him, he shook his head.

"There's nothing fun at those things."

"Other than sweets!" Alan said, smiling wide and jumping around, yet his grip on his hand never once slackening.

"But you're gonna' get sweets anyway." He announced, reasoning, but when he looked back down at his smiling brother, it no longer seemed as though that was the priority.

"And _I_ get _you_." That was quite true and he smiled back as they continued on their way. There were very few kids Alan's age who we see hanging around with their older brother as special thing. It wasn't like the small gap between he and Scott either, there was a fair near six years between them.

"Of course, you do." And he was sure the bounce and pull in the youngest's step only increased at having that fact confirmed. Well whatever else happened, he knew he and Alan were going to have plenty of fun.

* * *

He'd watched the blonde pair go with a lot of trepidation.

What the hell was he about to do? Probably create an absolute mess. Well there was nothing else for it now; John had taken the choice out of his hands by disappearing off, leaving him with the other two, waiting expectantly.

"Come on, Scott!"

"Yeah, we'll have to be home soon if _we_ wait for _you_!"

 _Someone could talk_.

"Uh, Gordon!" He wasn't _that_ old yet. But still he sighed as he began to follow behind the now excited pair, all previous conflict seemingly with the chance to attend the fair.

The group were still waiting expectantly for him and it wasn't at all a surprise when Emma practically threw herself at him in a constricting hug. He knew exactly what she was interested in and he knew many of the guys in their year – not to mention John's – were interested in her for good looks and the fact that she was the daughter of the richest family (after theirs, obviously) at the school. It wasn't that she wasn't good looking, just that he wasn't interested. They had completely different personalities, after all. That's if hers could be called much of a personality.

"I knew you'd come!"

"Come on man. Let's get this evening started!"

 _Hooray…_ He actually felt as though he was drowning.

For a moment the group were chatting and debating happily, even though his focus was on the two younger siblings stood at his side. The question was where to start.

 _By going home._ That was what his vote was going on, if of course, anyone actually bothered to ask. Which they did, when they finally took proper notice of the two dressed up brothers who stood out amongst the casually clothed and older bunch.

He saw several brows knit together in questioning and he knew this was the moment he'd been dreading when it came down to bringing his younger brothers, _not_ the actual act of bringing them itself. That should probably worry him, the fact his mind was happy to smuggle an underaged child into what was always reviewed as an _'_ _adult'_ and _'_ _scary'_ event.

"Are you two going someone else?" He thought that was a cheeky question to be honest.

"Your brother doesn't want you hanging around, I'm sure." That was a complete misconception and definitely Emma's point of view, because she – and likely no one else in the eight-strong group – wanted them around. It certainly wasn't _his,_ not that anyone asked.

"Go knock on people's door like the other kiddies and get yourselves some sweets." That dismissive and almost permanently gruff voice was Mitch, a football player who he disliked the most out of his so-called friends. He really didn't know why he didn't just stay a loner like John. His option for a circle of friends really wasn't appealing.

"We've come to the fair." Gordon announced with a beam and now that was out there, he was on a rescue mission.

"I have to watch them tonight."

"Man, you couldn't have left them at home?" What did Mitch think he was going to do? Virgil might have been ok to leave at home alone, but Gordon? No way, not even if someone knocked on the door and offered him the chance to fly a plane for a day.

"No."

"What about… which one… John! Couldn't _he_ have watched them?"

"No, he's got Alan." That was a bit of a lie as to how these exact circumstances had come about, but he wasn't going to disclose all that to people it simply didn't concern.

"Really! What are you calling this?"

"Look, they've agreed with me, they won't be any trouble. They're just going to tag along." It was clear no one was thrilled by that option, but there was little they could say. Instead, the discussion just resumed as to where they were going. Virgil and Gordon mentioned to him several ideas for what they'd like to do, but Scott was more than certain they'd end up tagging along the back of the group, following wherever they led. It wasn't like he could pitch in what his younger brothers wanted either. The group would never consider it, certainly not with some of the glares he was receiving for merely having them there.

Some of the attractions were the usual, the common and regular slides and roller-coasters, but the one everyone headed to a while was the 'Haunted House of Horrible Horrors', so named he supposed for its content and presumably warning 'twelve plus or accompaniment' for another similar reason. Immediately it gave him serious reservations as to taking his brothers inside.

"Come on."

"This will be the best."

"I can't wait! What about you Scott? What do you think?"

What did he think? They actually cared? No, the answer they wanted was something along the lines of 'brilliant' and loads of money chucked down. It didn't particularly appeal to him as it was and he doubted he'd have entertained it alone. His answer was quite simple and perfectly plain.

"I think I'll see you on the other side."

"Why?" He gestured with his head to the younger pair, who were still browsing the sign. "Scott!"

"I can't take them in there." There had to be limits to this fair visit. He knew what Virgil and Gordon would be able to cope with and so far they'd shadowed the group on every ride. At the end of each he'd checked in with them only to keep hearing that they were fine. But it was now coming up for nine he realised when he flicked his eyes towards his watch. The sky had already implied that to him by the darkness, something which was only pushed away by the lights on all the rides, but the exception was this one. The horror house had very few lights outside and that hinted to him what the state of it would be inside. Roller-coasters with witches everywhere, slides with skeletons and even fast spinning carriages and wheels full of loud, recorded creepy laughter were harmless. He figured that was partly because they were all out in the open; he could see his brothers and they could see him. This 'intensive Halloween experience' just wasn't going to them any good, he was sure.

"They'll be fine. They're kids." Yes, kids bounced back, but in those costumes especially, Virgil and Gordon would disappear if put in the pitch black. They'd disapprove, but it wasn't up to them. He'd never let anyone control his life and he wasn't going to start now – although he did wonder if maybe in recent months, he had.

"I'm paying, and I say no."

"There's plenty of people out here. They don't need you to wait with them, holding their hands."

 _Don't tell me what my brother's do and don't need,_ he thought, insistently. He always felt as though he could punch some of them at times like this. He could maybe also stretch to giving Gordon a good whack around the head.

"We'll be fine, Scott. It looks fun!"

"Yeah, you're probably just worrying over nothing."

 _Nicely done, Virgil, add fuel to Gordon's fiery argument._

"See! They're not worried."

"Yeah, come on."

He was about to protest some more – ignoring whatever Shakespeare John might have issued him with at that point – when Emma looped herself around him and pulled him towards the entrance with some level of hidden strength.

He saw at least the pair following dutifully behind, but once it fell dark, it was hard to see that much at all.

And oh, how he had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

Alan was looking rather chuffed as they stopped in the park at their side of town. It's where Scott should meet them soon. Yet something was making him want to march back up to that field…

"Johnny?"

"Yes, Al?"

"Gordon and Virgil aren't going to be allowed to steal my sweets, are they?" He chuckled. Alan waited the whole year for the one day he could re-collect enough sweets to re-stock the tin under his bed, and though it was a particularly peculiar fear to have, it was one he understood with their resident trickster living under the same roof.

"No, Alan. They're all yours. I'll make sure Gordon knows that."

"Yeah, because he could have had his own!" How very true. The red-head had chosen the fair willingly, but now he was beginning to think it was a mistake not just forcing the pair to come with them. "Do you think Scott will have bought any?"

"I don't know." He didn't feel like he knew very much at the moment – other than exactly what constellation was above his head, but that was little and useless in the long run. He'd tried calling Scott when they reached the park, just to let him know they were there, but hadn't received an answer or any reply since, and he was sure that in itself was strange.

After a while, Alan had taken to kicking his feet against the bench, likely out of boredom. It had only been five minutes since John told him to quit eating the sweets – the kid had already had six, and ok, he received a lot, because who in the neighbourhood doesn't know and love Alan? – to save him rotting his teeth, but worse amassing too much energy they'd never get rid of before the boy had to go to sleep. When the sound began to give him a headache, he checked his watch again. Nine o clock exactly. They'd agreed to meet around nine, and yet Scott had given him no contact whatsoever. It was a whole lot darker now too, which didn't have much effect here, but it would definitely make their walk home be in the black. Although it was just a feeling, he was sure something hadn't gone to plan. It made him want to go and check.

"Shouldn't they be here by now?" Alan half-asked, half-whined, presumably beginning to get cold and bored.

"Yes. Scott hasn't contacted me though."

"What's the point in him having a phone then?" Very, very true. It was funny that point came from the youngest of them too, who wasn't going to see a phone as his birthday present for at least three years. What followed was slightly worrying though, "Do you think they're alright?"

"They're at an enclosed fair yard, Alan. Nothing serious could happen to them." It wasn't unusual for any of the to worry about the others, but he wanted to know exactly where _that_ concern had come from, especially as the younger blonde was usually flippant unless the situation was serious.

"I know, but Scott doesn't really like his friends, does he?" And that was unusually perceptive for Alan.

"What makes you think that?" Obviously, it was true, but he wasn't going to disclose that without first hearing Alan's reasoning, so he made sure his expressions were school, so his face screwed first into the expected and frown before moving to curious questioning. Alan didn't see through it from the looks and sounds of his response.

"Just the way he talks about them. It's not the same as how he talks about us. And he never really interested in going out with them."

"No, well that's a good observation."

"Well… He never seems like _our_ Scott when they're there or mentioned." And that was definitely and interesting thing for Alan to have picked up upon. Maybe there was hope for the youngest to match his elders yet. "And he didn't seem happy when they called out to him earlier either."

Had Alan even worked out (or at the very least formed an inkling) that maybe Scott had never wanted to go to the fair? It certainly seemed that way from what he was hearing.

"Tell me, when did you get so perceptive?" Alan simply shrugged until his shoulders reached his ears with a shy smile. He smiled back and gave the younger a playful whack on his arm as he rose to his feet. He was fed up of waiting for the elder to appear from thin air. "Shall we go find these brothers of ours then?"

Alan nodded enthusiastically, jumping to his feet with sweets in tow. He promptly wheeled himself round to John's other side and grabbed his left hand with his right.

"Let's go!" He was expecting to be the one doing the leading, but the younger blonde was tugging him with some mighty force towards the gate, as though on a mission. Even though they were walking quite fast, there was still a limit as to how far Alan's shorter legs could step. Yes, Alan was definitely tall, and John was sure one day he would match his height. Yet for now, his legs were still far longer and so his pace and stride had to adjust too.

Alan glanced up and around not too long into their march, his expression falling towards worry, "It's getting _really_ dark now, John."

The dark had never bothered him strangely, but maybe that was because he grew up with his father's tales of travels to the moon and was practically destined to fall on a path with the cosmos. He loved space and feared none of it. Alan's small tints of worry didn't make him fret now either. So he smiled and squeezed the younger's hand, "But that's alright, isn't it? Because what do we only see when it's dark?"

"Stars!" Alan exclaimed, suddenly a whole lot happier, throwing his eyes towards the sky, searching for the little blips of silvery light.

It was well known that Alan had always had a fear of the dark as a child, refusing to sleep with the light off, something which was completely exacerbated by the loss of their mother. It was however, still a complete secret as to how he'd managed to make the younger face them. Personally, he thought the answer was obvious with how often Alan would now ask for permission to go and sit out stargazing with him.

They soon made it to the field though and headed inside. The attractions were well spread out, but apart from the entrance way, there was still so little space between everything, what with the amount of people milling around.

"It's really busy." Alan echoed his thoughts, shuffling a step closer to him, of which John was glad. The youngest had never liked crowds, and he could hardly claim to be fond of them himself. His brothers were a crowd enough for him.

"I know, Al, but just stick close and keep hold of my hand, ok?"

"Ok, Johnny."

He glanced around carefully, studying the crowd. The only problem now was how many people were here. It would be so easy for them to miss their brothers and end up with the three of them waiting at the park for _them_.

"Now, where do you think we should look first?" He enquired, leaning down to check Alan's face. That was usually the best way to tell what the youngest was thinking and feeling.

"Um… I don't know. There's a lot of things I know Gordon would like." That was probably a good initiative to follow too. He had a brief idea of what his elder brother's 'friends' looked like, but not enough that he thought he'd spot them through a crowd.

"Excuse me?" Alan jumped at the new voice, that he felt quite simply through their connected hands. He turned around slowly, pulling Alan around until he could put both hands on the younger's shoulders. He didn't recognise the man, but he was wearing a t-shirt he'd seen on some of the staff stood by the gates, so he figured this man was part of that team. He didn't assume though, that's one thing their father had made them all very aware of over the years.

"Can I help you?" He asked, watching the way Alan's head tilted back to look at him, as though waiting to take visual clues from him.

"Sorry, my colleagues and I couldn't help wondering… Well, is your brother ten? We just have to ask you see." The man hadn't said 'brother' with much confidence, though John wasn't sure what else he looked old enough to be in relation to Alan. But of course, here came the awkward part he'd completely forgotten about.

"I understand that. He's not, but we're not here to partake in anything." He could tell the man really wasn't following. "We're looking for our brothers. They were meant to meet us a while ago and haven't, so we figured they'll be around somewhere."

"Oh." Still the man looked as though he didn't trust him to be telling the truth. "Anyone I might be able to help you find?"

"Well they were with a group of people, mainly around fifteen." The man looked thoughtful for a moment and John was sure he was going to have no idea who he was meaning with how many people must have come through here this evening, but then he looked again and realised how few people were wearing costumes. _Why didn't you think of that sooner,_ he chastised himself. That would have been useful for him and Alan to have searched with in mind. "He would have been with two younger boys as well, one dressed as a skeleton and one as a spider."

A lightbulb seemed to flip in the man's mind, most likely because a spider was an odd choice of Halloween costume and Gordon was incredibly loud. "Oh, I think I've seen that group. They were around the Haunted House I believe."

"Thank you." He answered promptly before grabbing Alan's hand and steering him away. He wasn't having Alan separated from him and he wasn't going to listen to anyone ramble on about age. Yes, the age limits were in place for a reason, but they weren't going to use any of the rides and Alan was going to be in his care the whole time. It didn't make reasonable sense to leave an eight-year-old alone or with a stranger and if anyone suggested that, he would bring out his rarely used John Tracy anger – because yes, he could be as stubborn as his brothers – and see about whacking someone with a bit of force.

By the time they made it across in the right direction to the Haunted House, his heart was instantly sinking when the sign came into view.

"The Haunted House of Horrible Horrors." Alan glanced up at him again. "That doesn't sound nice."

"I doubt it is." He steered Alan towards the man at the booth, the long line flowing behind the roped bars. There was another man standing outside the booth, filtering in and out the next sets of people. At the moment no one was going in or coming out, so it seemed a good time for questions.

"You have to queue to come in, kid."

"I don't want to go in. I just want to know if my brothers did. A group with a kid dressed as a spider?" Now he'd remembered, he was sure Gordon was going to be the easiest memory jogger.

"Spider costume… yeah I think I remember the one. They went in a little while ago."

"How long, exactly?"

"Oh, half an hour."

"And how long does it take to walk around?"

"Half an hour, forty-five minutes. It's a big maze in there." That shouldn't make him worry, but it did, because Scott – unless somehow forced – would surely never have taken Virgil or Gordon anywhere near something suggested at twelve and above.

"And they've not come out?"

"Nah, I think I'd remember that. Not had many spiders through there tonight." That really did make his heart drop, because _that_ made it worth worrying about. No way would Scott have spent more than half an hour in _there._ Alan pulled on his hand to gain his attention and that was what he got within seconds.

"What are you thinking, Johnny?"

"Probably that I should go in and find them, but I can't leave you."

"Kid could stay with me." The worker suggested, and he knew that was out of kindness but…

"He's eight." It was the first clear thing which came to his mind and some recognition flew over the man's face – and whether that had anything to do with the age for this fair being ten and over he didn't know. For all he knew, the man might understand because he had children or siblings of his own, but understand he did.

"Ah, ok. You don't particularly want to leave him?"

"Not at all."

"Ok, give me a moment." With that the man was gone, disappearing away to the tent behind their ticket booth. When he returned his gaze to Alan, the younger was shuffling his feet, appearing worried again.

"Do you think they're alright?"

"I doubt Scott would have taken them in there otherwise. I'm sure they'll be fine."

"John, you're not." Really, when did Alan start getting a perceptive sense! The kid was challenging him now.

"Ok, well I think they'll be alright in the long run then." Alan nodded, seemingly happier with that answer and as the man reappeared behind the younger, John climbed back to feet, the younger blonde turning around in response. Another man in the same company shirt passed them by and took over the post on the gate.

"What's going on?" Alan queried, voice light.

"I was almost due a break. My mates gonna' take over, so we can go in and look for these brothers of yours."

"Thank you." He ushered Alan to follow them as they headed towards the exit.

"Kid gonna' be alright?" The kind man questioned in reference to Alan as he pulled back the curtain to the exit and turned his torch on. Ideally, John would never have dared taking him in here, but leaving him outside for an unknown length of time with strangers didn't seem right either. Knowing Alan, he'd begin to panic quickly anyhow. He wasn't used to being alone, or at least alone for a long time with strangers and no family at his side. It all likely stemmed back to the fact that he'd been alone with the ambulance staff for a long time when their mother died, and an incident like that he didn't want to repeat. Still, it had to be the younger's choice.

"Will you be alright going in? Hopefully we shouldn't have to go too far. You could stay out here if you'd rather though."

Alan shook his head fiercely as though a lion with a large main it was proud of. "I'd rather stay with you. And if I get scared I can close my eyes. So long as I'm always holding your hand."

That sounded like a fair deal, and Alan held his hand most of the time if they were walking in the dark anyway, another security thing John believed, just to make sure that someone had to be close.

"Deal."

So they headed in, the worker shinning his torch down the path so they had a more illuminated view than the paying patrons. Alan's free hand hovered in front of his eyes already and he shivered, and John couldn't disagree that it had gone suddenly cold within the black curtains.

* * *

He could hear Virgil and Gordon chatting as they went along, but it was hard to see them in so much black. He tried to stop every so often and attempt to find them, but Emma was continually swinging him forward.

His phone rang at one point and he reached to answer it, glad to see it was John, but not at all glad to realise it was five minutes past nine. _Damn!_ He wasn't even sure if they were close to the end: the darkness made it feel like they'd been walking for hours. He didn't even get to answer the call as the girl snatched it from his hands and turned it off, slipping it into her sparkling jacket's pocket.

"There." She smiled as though it was something to be proud of, but he could only frown at her.

"That was my brother."

"Hmm. He's old enough to look after himself."

"We need to go."

"We have all night."

"You might, I don't." He could only hope the younger pair were near enough to hear him, "Virgil, Gordon, come here we're going."

"Are we near the end?" Gordon. Definitely Gordon. "Because it's not been very scary yet." Oh good, at least he'd managed to fail in forever traumatising his younger brother.

"Virgil?" He was more than slightly concerned at the middle child's lack of answer. "Gordon, is Virgil with you?"

"What's it matter?"

 _"_ _What's it matter?"_ Who the hell did this girl think she was? Ok, he didn't need that answering, because he had a pretty good idea. She was the complete opposite to them, money was her tool for everything.

"Well he's like…" She seemed to be struggling very much so to pull a close enough age out of thin air.

"He's twelve."

"See, he's twelve. Fine."

"You don't even know him."

"What's going to happen? He's going to see a Vampire and have a panic attack?" She made it sound as though it was only alright for children to scared and clearly his expression was voicing that. "My brother is nine and he wouldn't freak at this."

"Good for your brother, but I'm sure he's very different to mine." Even as he spoke he was trying to think, _does she even have a brother?_ He was sure she had a sister, which would make that another thing she was trying to use to _force_ a 'connection' between them. They already had one according to her and it annoyed him to no end, because they definitely did _not._

"Virgil?"

"I think he went this way." Gordon's voice suggested from the darkness. It was hard to work out exactly from where.

" _Where_ are _you_?"

"I'm by a set of tunnels. Keep walking until it begins to get colder and I guarantee you'll find me." Well that was useful, or at least it would have been if he was actually allowed to walk. He'd tried several times to loosen Emma's arms from around him, but without using full strength he couldn't dislodge her and he was afraid if he tried any harder he'd end up hurting her. Gordon - clearly realising he was taking a _while_ , and he was certain from some of the looks the spider had given him since Emma latched onto him outside, that he was aware or suspicious of something (which in itself was worrying) – took matters into his own hand, "Or I could simply start speaking _really, really loudly_ until you get here, because when you get here you'll know because I'll be shouting right into your ear drums and you'll start desperately shouting 'shut up, Gordon!'. And then I'll know that you're-"

He placed his hand over Gordon's mouth and the red-head promptly fell silent. When he removed his hand, the younger smiled and without reducing his volume continued, "I'll know you're here!"

"Will you shut up?"

"Emma."

"What? Don't tell me that doesn't drive you mad?" Okay, Gordon could do that, but regardless, it was his brother, so it didn't matter. And he ignored the girl entirely. He was hoping she'd get bored or just _take the hint_ and _let him go_! It really was driving him insane.

"Which way do you think Virgil went?"

"Well he said something about making out an exit route and then went this way." Gordon gestured towards what he assumed was the tunnel on their left.

"Right, let's catch him up. Gordon stay in front of me, ok? Close. I want to be able to reach you if I need too."

"Yeah, yeah. You're more worried than I am." The eight spider legs flapped in the dark as Gordon ploughed on and he followed behind – Emma _still_ hanging from his waist.

"Gordon, slow down."

"Sorry." The red-head's step came closer and he was satisfied with that. The tunnel was long and dark and colder than the main exhibit had felt, and he could gradually feel Emma's grip tightening. Gordon's footsteps seemed to be slowing of their own accord as well. He supposed they were getting towards the Horrible Horrors part as opposed to the Haunted House part – which yes, hadn't been too bad.

"Who rang, Scott?" Gordon asked eventually, and Scott supposed he was doing that for noise. The absence of sound in this tunnel was incredibly creepy.

"John."

"You didn't answer it."

"I didn't have a chance." He looked Emma's way, but she simply smiled. He tried to hold back the on-coming scoff.

"Why was he ringing?"

"Because it's past nine."

"So we need to go."

"Yes we-"

Whatever he'd be planning to say he no longer knew. They – or rather Gordon since he was ahead – must have stepped over some kind of motion sensor as a creepy, spine chilling laugh echoed from some sort of speaker system. At the same time, a large series of small, laser-like lights assaulted their vision and illuminated miniature cut outs of the room. Emma was the first to scream, practically leaping into his arms. Following her gaze, the lights briefly showed him a half skinned skeleton, formed like a zombie. He had to admit, it was terrifying and horrible (and he didn't scare easily). Emma screaming didn't help any matters though, as it soon set of Gordon.

The younger turned around, presumably to try and locate him, but as Gordon's eyes looked round in the opposite direction, there must have been something to set him off too, because he began to shout, yelling endlessly, a volume far louder than he'd ever heard on without doubt the loudest member of their family. He tried to spot exactly what it was which had frightened Gordon by turning to his right, but Emma was seriously restricting his movement now. He almost bumped into the statue with his height as the Vampire looked over. It wasn't so much the figure itself with its looming arms, open mouth and large fangs (clear when hit by the light), instead it was the thing the lighting highlighted which made him notice the dripping sound. He wasn't sure how it was done and right now didn't care. Its fangs had – fake – blood dripping from them in mass quantities by the volume of sound he was now hearing and how clear it was make in the small, moving beams of lights.

The more worrying thing, was that Gordon's voice was moving further away, even with how loud it was. Despite that being what he'd usually with for when the red-head was in a loud move, right now all he wanted was to be able to grab hold of him.

He made attempts to move forward (because he was assuming that was the way his brother had gone by the sound), but Emma was dragging her ridiculously high heels and trying to pull him back, begging him to stay with her. That in itself became the problem and in her desperation to stop him moving away, she sent them both flying to the floor. Something hit the ground with a 'thump' and he was certain it wasn't either of them. Well, he hit the ground with quite a whack, Emma completely shielded by him, but this sound had come undeniably from further afield.

Falling might not have been entirely negative though as something his arm brushed against squeaked and shuffled back instantly. It wasn't voiced, but he recognised the sound regardless.

"Virgil?" He tried to shuffle further back too – still a struggle with Emma clawing at every limb – all whilst Gordon's screaming made his ears ring. He managed to get his hand onto fabric, which felt like an arm was enclosed. He knew instantly it was his younger brother though and spoke again, "Virge?" The younger's breathing sounded quite fast and he wasn't even sure _what_ had set the brunette off, but with the amount of stuff in this room there was probably fair choice. Not to forget, the middle child had been ahead of them.

Gordon's shouts renewed themselves suddenly as a howl bellowed down and he felt Virgil jump. He wasn't focusing on what Emma was doing and he couldn't bring himself to claw her hands away from him at the moment when he needed to keep Virgil close, yet it was a little bit like wrestling an over-friendly dog as she whined into his shoulder. He was just trying to sit up, for goodness sake! It honestly sounded like Virgil was having some kind of panic attack and he was far from close enough to provide any real security or comfort.

"Virge, it's ok, it's me." Talking seemed to help, but there was so much he had to combat just to get the few words in.

"Scott!"

"Gordon, I think I'm to your left!" He honestly didn't know where the swimmer of the family was anymore, and it became even harder to see anything clearly as another laugh echoed down followed by a series of recorded screams. In synch with that, the lights went crazy in their pattern, sending streams of red, blue and green all over the place. If anyone epileptic entered here, Scott was sure they would be in the middle of a seizure by now and he was actually surprised he wasn't as he tried to shield his eyes. All the sound and lights were piling on touch of each other before ghosts started to pass across the room, completely holographic, but they definitely set Gordon off (or further off).

"Ah! Ghosts! Scott, get me out of here!"

"Gordon-" He couldn't move. One, because there was no way he could dare leave Virgil in this state and two because someone was physically restraining him with new found strength due to the constant series of scares.

 _Oh damn, damn, damn,_ it was his mantra for lack of a ruder word. He managed to gain a little more height though, meaning he could get an arm around Virgil's shaking shoulders. He could hear Gordon clearly, but the lights were moving too rapidly he wasn't sure he could keep his eyes open without damaging them. Something which felt like netting fell on top of them – _typically!_ – and every thought he had in that brief moment he realised something was falling clearly wasn't answer, definitely not the main one;

 _Don't scream, Emma._

What did the girl do? Ok, it was understandable, but screaming was the first thing she did, which instantly caused Virgil to jump, his body curling inwards towards the elder. The second thing she did was flail, catching herself in the netting, but pulling him further in too. It was a nightmare. The one thing he realised was it was meant to act like a spider's web, but that did him no good.

Gordon sounded as though he was getting further away, when he was able to tune back in from the multiple tasks at his hands. He was desperately trying to tell Emma to stop struggling and coax Virgil into not panicking (at least as much as he was).

"Gordon!"

The younger didn't answer and he didn't consider that good in the slightest.

"Scott, help me!" For a moment he hoped it was Gordon, but he knew in his head it was Emma, who – and it sounded horrible – was not his priority right now.

"Virge, you have to calm down. It's alright."

"Scott..."

"Yeah, it's me, you're ok."

But the world just wanted to contradict him, didn't it? Suddenly all the lights cut out, not that that was bad for eyesight, but it definitely didn't do any good for plunging you back into the pitch black. He managed to reach out and rub Virgil's back, trying to let that little comfort mean something, but it was so hard. As Emma continued to try and free herself rapidly from the netting, that continued to send waves of impulse to his little brother which were only serving to increase his nerves.

And then, the silence and stillness abruptly ended, with the laser lights coming back on in full and the sounds layering. The sound he wanted wasn't there and he was really beginning to fear as to where Gordon had gone. It sounded at least as though his voice had faded to his right, which would hopefully have kept pointing Gordon towards the exit. That was the best he could hope for.

Virgil's hands reached out suddenly like claws, gripping into his chest, and that grip he didn't care for and would allow for a thousand years.

And then it all went off. Yet they were only in the black for a moment as the lights – house lights, bright and clear and from up above – were thrown on, momentarily blinding him. He supposed it was some kind of emergency system they must have in place in case someone did panic. Maybe that meant Gordon had found the way out… or bumped into someone else.

"Scott?"

That voice was like Christmas come early.

"John?" He tried gradually to open his eyes again, having to shield them with his hand. Indeed, the blonde was in front of him, calm as ever. He noticed the younger kneel a little way away from him before his arms reached out towards Virgil until the twelve-year-old was sat between them. All this seemed to prompt the middle child into coming back to some senses too as he blinked, his breathes still rapid, but calming.

"John..?"

"Right here, Virge."

"I've never been more glad to see you in my life." He answered as he moved around closer, continuing to rub Virgil's back, whilst John held his younger brother's hand tightly. It looked painful if he was honest, and he could see where Virgil's fingernails were digging into the pale skin of John's right hand. His direct younger said nothing though and simply brushed his thumb over the back of Virgil's hand. Now that he was happy Virgil was in good hands – and yes, even Emma was safe as one of the staff (presumably the one who had brought John in) was detangling her from the net. "Where's Gordon? Where did you come from?"

"Alan and I tracked you down." He knew his brow had raised as John continued, "There aren't many people out there tonight in a spider costume."

"Of course."

"The staff led us in. Gordon ran into us in the tunnel outside which leads to the exit. We came this way whilst Alan took the torch and led Gordon back to the exit. They'll be alright there for a moment."

 _Thank goodness._ He wasn't sure how they would have got out of this if John and Alan hadn't come searching for them. Gordon could have ended up running anywhere, he'd likely still be stuck in Emma's arms and Virgil might have run out of breath.

"What happened?" It was probably only fair for John to get a chance to ask questions. "I called you. You never answered. I guess there's just no signal in here."

"Oh no, there's signal alright. A vulture just grabbed by phone." He tilted his head back towards Emma who was now making a big scene to the poor worker about how she'd been forced to roll around on the floor with the risk of breaking a nail or a heel – such a small thing to make a scene over in comparison he thought.

"New girlfriend?"

His eyes narrowed immediately as he met John's eyes with a glare of steel. "Don't even joke, John."

"She's… not nice." Virgil breathed out, finally seeming to recover some puff and colour thought. He certainly seemed lot steadier with his elder brother's either side.

"No?" John questioned, though Scott could only shake his head. He knew John had some idea what she was like and was likely fishing for the story. "She wouldn't happen to be the Evil Witch, would she?"

"What?" He glanced around for a moment, finding a witch missing in the range of statues, but he was still confused.

"Gordon's comment when we ran into him. He said Scott needed saving from an Evil Witch. That's quoted by the way."

He nodded, slightly wary now, because he was pretty sure he'd never referred to Emma as that in speech or around Gordon…

"Can we get outside?" Virgil asked, but there was a smile in his tone now as though the little story had brightened things up for him. Going outside would probably a good idea for them all, going home would be an even better one.

"Course we can." He helped the middle child to his feet, John following alongside, perfectly ready to steady Virgil if it was needed. The worker followed a little behind them with Emma, still giving him an earful. Although it was pitch black outside, it felt like entering daylight. Gordon, as John had said was stood with Alan just outside, chatting now, a curtain pulled side and pinned back to let the lights of the fair trial into the exit tunnel. The Terrible Two reuniting though seemed to have settled Gordon's nerves. Still as the three of them emerged, Gordon threw himself into he and Virgil. John moved to stand at Alan's side as the blonde still held the torch, shining it around happily now they were all together.

He didn't know what was said between John and the worker who had come in to get them, but it seemed to end merrily and with a hand shake as the man headed back to work.

He had to admit he was surprised when everyone else pilled over, lightly able to locate them through Emma's shouting and it was just the last straw for him.

"Come on." He put his free arm around Gordon's shoulder and began to push both of his younger brothers towards Alan and John. "Let's go home."

There were no protests to that, except,

"Scott, mate, you goin'?"

"Yeah. I'm taking my family home."

"It's early."

"Scott, you can't go. I'm a wreck!" He didn't care. His brothers were far more important, and they were definitely a wreck too thanks to that lot.

That lot who really didn't have a clue about who he was, or know anything about him. Who were interested him for the money and intelligence he had, the connections and in some cases, the attraction, apparently. The ones who demanded he come to parties and events with them and tried to pull him away from his brothers. Who just didn't understand what his _family_ meant to him: they were _everything._ And he'd had more than enough tonight of people criticising him for that and commenting about people they would never know. They couldn't ever know his brothers, not when they didn't even know _him._ Quite frankly though, he was sick of it. So, what if he didn't actually have friends his age? He much preferred having his brothers.

"Yes, because truthfully I wasn't fussed to come tonight and I wouldn't have if I didn't think it would cause chaos on Monday."

"Hey, mate, slow down." Mitch, again. Mitch who relied on him heavily in math, because the boy couldn't add for the century. Considering that, he supposed he couldn't have expected any of what he'd said to sink in.

"Though, I'm going to speed up and get home. And, Mitch, you're _not_ my mate."

"Scott, dear, why are you being like this?" He heard Gordon laugh and that was just it.

"Emma, I've told you no. No, I don't like you like _that_ , we have nothing in common and I'm not going to go out with you. And please, never call me dear again." She made a scene of suddenly looking very taken aback and offended. Mitch stepped forwards, almost as though to say something in her defence (and those two would be perfect for each other), but he didn't get a chance to say anything as Gordon stepped forward bravely piquing up before he could stop him.

"You're not his mate. I know that, because I've read his diary."

 _Oh… bloody hell._

He threw his eyes across to John quickly who shook his head. "I warned you."

"And you, you're an Evil Witch," The red-head declared pointing at Emma and for a moment all he could do was watch as his jaw dropped, "And he could never go out with you, because you're selfish and attracted to money and you have absolutely no personality whatsoever."

"Gordon." He tried to put some threat into his tone, but it was hard to come down on the kid after he'd just been scared to his wits.

"Hey-"

"And you, Mitch..?"

"Gordon-"

"You are the football jock, who has no brain and is basically just a complete and utter jerk." There was a darkening cloud clearly falling over Mitch's face, one he recognised for the boy had little to no control over his anger.

" _Gordon._ " The younger didn't seem to head anything in his tone though and he wasn't given any more chance to follow through with an action, as Emma threw herself into him once more.

"You can't say things like that!"

"Emma-"

"No, we're talking about this!"

"There's nothing to talk about!" This was quickly turning into a disaster and Gordon was still talking. He was trying to look past Emma, but in her displeasure, the girl stamped her heel onto this foot. And that didn't half hurt. Besides, half Gordon was now saying, he was sure he hadn't written so argumentatively.

"-And you have anger issues and you love to keep in with people with money because you have none whatsoever yourself, and the only way you're ever going to get anywhere in life is if you can continue to barrel through everyone or football or find a rich girl whose blind in her tastes."

"Why you…" And it was obvious, but he couldn't get anywhere near the bulkier boy, he couldn't even get nearer to Gordon with Emma shoving him further away.

"Gordon!" Alan sounded incredibly worried now, with fair cause as Mitch fisted a hand, pulling it backwards and Virgil's breath hitched as his hands flew to his face.

"Don't you dare!" Shouting seemed like the best he could do.

It was clear now that Gordon regretted letting his mouth take over as he took a step back, fully expecting what was coming, but it never actually hit. He was shocked, but oh so glad that John had managed to move out of sight before all this commotion started and essentially was able to be forgotten about. The blonde may be slight, but he wasn't without strength or temper, and whilst Scott knew his direct younger couldn't take Mitch on fully, what summoned the blonde's temper did raise a force to be reckoned with.

It was that rare force which saved Gordon from getting a black eye as John jumped at the bulkier, but shorter male, pulling his arm back and around. The disadvantage John did have though was that Mitch's frame have him a lot more power and of course the year (and a half) age difference aided the elder slightly too and in seconds he'd swung back around and pushed the blonde to the floor.

This time he just saw red and shoved Emma away regardless of whether or not she'd end up hurt and stormed straight across to the football player. Mitch may be bulkier than him, but he was slower and had never really been stronger. So, he went for a punch straight to the nose and that was that. Virgil and Alan had hurried quickly to Gordon's side, but Alan hadn't hovered long before continuing his dash towards John.

With Mitch cradling a lightly broken nose from the satisfying crack he'd heard, he strode over and held out a hand to John, who instantly placed his left into the grip, and allowed himself to be pulled back to his feet. Virgil and Gordon had run over to join them and quickly he ushered them all towards the gates.

"Come on, we're gone."

* * *

The walk home was supposed to be uneventful.

Gordon and Virgil were discussing the fair, staying well clear of the horror house experience though and the red-head was occasionally attempting to steal a sweet from Alan, who would cry out instantly and call for John, to which John would then call Gordon off like a lion tamer. It was amusing to watch.

The younger three banded together in their line, walking ahead, far enough that with the sound of their own conversation, they wouldn't overhear the elder's, but not too far that they couldn't be called to or pulled back. It was a straight road back to their house though, so no way the three could disappear.

"Did you take your phone back?" John asked over the sound of Virgil and Alan's laughter at something Gordon had said. Scott would take a guess it was a commentary on that punch he'd delivered, one he'd likely never be allowed to travel around without hearing tale of now. It reminded him though that, no, he didn't.

He shrugged. "I'll get a new one."

"How will you explain that to Dad?"

"I don't know. I'll come up with something. If not, I've got enough saved, I'll buy it myself."

"I'll help you."

"No way. You're saving up for a telescope. It was entirely my fault."

"Entirely _mine,_ I think you'll find brother. If I hadn't called, she wouldn't have taken it." He tilted his head in thought for a moment, because that was quite true. "At least I know now why you never answered."

"Sorry about that." John waved him off with a flick of his left hand and he didn't know exactly _why_ that made him aware of it, but it had. One little thing he'd noticed the whole way back, but hadn't voiced until he really looked and _saw_ it now. He frowned thoroughly until the lines on his forehead met his eyebrows. "What have you done?"

John sounded incredibly confused as he frowned for himself and answered based on what they'd just been speaking about, "Lost you your phone?"

"No, to your arm." It was now John looked down and Scott wondered whether the younger had been consciously cradling the limb against his chest or not. Regardless, the blonde dropped it to his side now.

"Nothing."

"Let me see."

"It's _nothing."_

"You wouldn't be so adamant about keeping it out of my sight if there was nothing to hide." He stopped, pulling his hands from his pockets and when John continued a few steps, he cleared his throat, sounding alarmingly similar to dad for a minute. The younger stopped though and turned back around, holding the limb out to him. "Thank you."

He didn't have to look far as he moved the sleeve of John's jacket. His wrist was red and puffy, clearly swelling up and appearing incredibly painful.

"John…"

"It's nothing. Probably a sprain, it will clear up." That might be so, but the worst part was, he knew exactly where _this_ had to have come from, what with the options being pretty small. He doubted John obtained it knocking on doors with Alan and he didn't remember it being so when Virgil was gripping that same hand for dear life, because that would have been terribly painful. No, it had to happen when…

"Mitch."

"Scott, it will be fine."

"I'm just glad I did punch him now." He clearly recalled John calling out at him to stop on that account – peace lover he was – but now he was immensely glad he'd knocked the guy one. "Still, I really want to get this looked at."

"Then we really won't beat Dad in and you'll have to tell him."

"I know, but he's going to see this."

"I don't think he will. I can hide it so long as I wear long sleeves – which, hey, won't be difficult, it's winter – and be careful what I do. Which basically means keep Alan and Gordon from jumping at me."

"That's the least I can do. And get you some ice." He wondered whether his instincts were leading him right though. "And take you out tomorrow afternoon to get it looked at. It's a Saturday."

"And what will you tell Dad?"

"Christmas shopping?" He posed, as he reached a finger out lightly towards John's swelling skin.

"Because that's believable. Ow!"

"Sorry." He apologised quickly moving his hand away.

"Come on, slowpokes!" Gordon called and looking up he noticed the three of them had stopped up ahead to wait. John pulled his jacket sleeve back down and he stuffed his hands back into his pocket. Hopefully they could just act nonchalant and the youngers didn't have to know about this mishap.

"Alright!" He called back as they resumed their pace, leaning his head towards John, "Say nothing?"

"Agreed." The blonde responded, before calling to the younger's utter shock, "You've got to stop doing that Gordon."

"Doing what?"

"Hurrying up the people _you've_ kept waiting." At reminder of the earlier delay the red-head fell delightfully silent for the rest of the journey home, all of his extra legs not helping in his slow walking speed. The rest of them laughed, a sound which echoed around the quiet streets.

* * *

No one had been in a sleeping mood when they entered the house, crashing in the living room. Alan finally gave Gordon a sweet and Virgil put a DVD on before even asking if it was alright to stay up, but Scott didn't plan on saying no.

They'd gathered on the floor with pillows and blankets quite soon, all cuddling close together in the cold evening. The youngest three dropped like flies, leaving the elder pair alone with the playing film and their company.

"I'm sorry about _that._ " He mentioned again as he managed to slip himself back under the covers without disturbing his brothers after getting up to fetch John the promised ice. The blonde shook his head.

"Nothing you could have done. You had a heel digging into your foot as far as I remember."

"You saw?"

"Hmm. She was very angry. But then you did say she had no personality."

" _Gordon_ did."

"But he got it from you." Yes, yes, the red-head did. "I did warn you." John repeated his quiet piece from the earlier dilemma.

"I move it every week." The blonde shook his head as he moved the ice slightly.

"You need an _industrial safe_ if you're going to keep something like _that_ in the house."

"Or just kick the spider out of the house." Gordon had fallen asleep with eight annoying legs still attached to him, one of which was currently under his leg. John seemed to find that hilarious, so much so that he kept looking around as though he feared he'd woken one of their brothers. When he finally stopped laughing, he changed the topic completely.

"You know you'll definitely have to make a big deal with red to stop him spilling this evening to dad."

"Oh… don't remind me." None of it had gone quite to plan tonight and it was likely something was going to roll off someone's tongue, even with the unspoken 'don't tell on a brother' pact, unless a mutual agreement was made to the benefit of all involved. "Any suggestions?"

"Yes. Buy Gordon a year's supply of sweets, because he didn't build that collection tonight and if he keeps stealing Alan's throughout the year, they'll be trouble. Alan's easy. See what he wants in the morning. Virgil… I doubt he'll say anything, but it would be good to know what spooked him like that."

 _Yes._ The middle child had remained silent about the incident all evening, but he seemed back to his usual self now.

"I'll talk to him." John seemed happy with that and leaned his head back into the pillow, closing his eyes. For anyone else the difference would be hard to tell, but Scott could tell from the small details, the way John rubbed at his eyes and the little knits in his brow, which clearly implied he was reclining out of pain, not a desire to sleep.

He reached out carefully for the sofa behind him, grabbing one of the cushions before slowly lifting his brother's arms, to quite a few small mumbles of pain, but once the limb was resting on the cushion, the blonde thanked him – despite the agro it had taken to get there.

It seemed like ages had passed in the silence before a thought hit him anew. "John?"

"Hmm?"

"What you said earlier… How exactly did everyone know what we got for an allowance?"

John huffed, an action which led to him having to move again to get more comfortable and the brunette reached out to adjust the pillow and ice combination as he did so. When the blonde had settled again, he answered, "Stupid question, I'll give you one guess."

And that was all the prompting it should have taken for him to work it out to begin with, his eyes trailing along towards the snoring red-head strewn across the floor in a heap of pillows and foam costume legs.

"Gordon."

"Of course. I'm _surprised_ it's taken _you_ this long."

 _John, I'm surprised too._

He remembered thinking, that he couldn't remember a Halloween that had _ever_ gone more _wrong,_ before he began to doze.

* * *

By the time Jeff Tracy made it in from his meeting at around one o clock in the morning, the faint buzz of the TV drew him to the living room as the DVD title menu replayed. Looking down at his boys he could only shake his head, but he didn't disturb them. He simply turned off the TV and wondered why John had a pillow under his arm; Virgil a card in his hand and a large stack in front of him which he'd clearly been attempting to build; Alan a selection of sweet wrappers inside his Wizard hat; and most off all, why or rather how, Scott had ended up with four spider legs dropped across his chest and a rather ugly bruise on his foot from where it stuck out beneath the blanket.

He wasn't even going to try and work out how Gordon had managed to end up with his legs somehow entwined with Virgil's whilst his head laid in the crook of Scott's neck with several assorted sweet wrappers stuck to his – or rather the 'spider's' - back. Four of the costume's legs were accounted for smothering Scott and the other three he could see somewhere beneath Scott, but one was missing. And he decided that maybe he didn't want to know how he ended up with seven legs.

No, he just wasn't going to ask about that one.


End file.
